Nobody
by GinTsuki
Summary: Murder, dark alleyways, sultry bars, vicious gangsters, a cranky doctor and a young teen with no memory... all wrapped up into one murder mystery for Starfleet's newest recruits to solve. -Slightly AU-
1. Prologue

**Nobody**

_A Star Trek Fan Fiction_

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**Prologue**

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The beady eyes of the statuette seemed to bore into Spock's own as he appraised the object with impassiveness. His young hands rolled the figurine over to observe the simple markings on the back and found nothing complicated to peak his interest. He tried looking back into its face, but the stoic expression merely echoed his own. Spock's knowledge of foreign cultures identified the item in his hand as a statue of Inuit origin; one of Earth's ancient cultures that had long since died out. What Spock couldn't figure out was the object's purpose in his mother's artifact cupboard. The figure was made in the last century, obviously not ancient or valuable in any respect; perhaps his mother was victim of some forgery?

"Spock." Came a gentle reprimand from the doorway, throwing the young Vulcan out of his thoughts.

Instantly the object was back on its designated shelf looking as if it had been there all along; only a slight wobble could have proved otherwise. From his mother's vantage point, Spock was certain it escaped her notice. The boy stood from his kneeling position and with one minute gesture of grace he managed to close the cupboard with his foot.

"Yes Mother?"

Her lips were set in a serious frown, but the expression didn't meet her eyes. It was well known in Shi'Kahr that Amanda had a soft spot as wide as the sky for her only son.

"What have I told you about being in the study?"

Spock denied himself the reflex of looking to his feet like a shamed human child and instead focused on a point on the wall. The only difficulty with this option was finding a spot that didn't wholly distract him. Everywhere his dark eyes glanced was a piece of art, or a bookshelf, or a holograph that demanded his attention. It was so rare an opportunity to be present in his father's workplace that Spock couldn't stop from absorbing what he could.

Amanda sighed. With a determined tread, the woman crossed the room and gently gripped Spock's chin. She was forced to stoop in order to keep eye contact with the child, but now his face wasn't going anywhere she didn't want it to. "I told you that you must ask permission in order to enter here. If your father saw you poking your nose into things you shouldn't I'm the one that has to save you from a night of condescending stares."

"I was admiring your collection. My nose was not near your artifacts."

"Your nose was in this room Spock. That is what is forbidden."

Spock turned his face away just as Amanda dropped her hand from his chin. His little mind was working furiously for a weakness he could exploit.

"Then may I request permission to be in here for five more minutes?" This was practically his father's living quarters; such a place was innately fascinating to the small Vulcan. Surely his mother would understand that?

Amanda tried not to laugh at the question and instead rose to her full height and shook her head. "You're not getting away with asking after the fact. You need to learn to control that curiosity of yours before it gets you into _real_ trouble. Come on, go find somewhere else to play or you can come and help me prepare dinner."

The idea seemed displeasing to Spock. "Can we not compromise?"

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously and sighed yet again, "...and it's been said that you have no interest in diplomacy, and yet here you are negotiating terms. You have admired my collection enough for the time being. I will not ask you again to remove yourself from the study." Her tone was serious now, and Spock knew that his pressing the point was not going to prove effective. Instead he opted for a different tactic that would still gain the desired effect.

He stepped forward and stuck his nose in the air. "I believe that one of your relics is a forgery, and if you give me ample time to inspect the object I can acquire the necessary proof." His voice was monotone - precise and clear. It made curiosity cross the firm countenance of his mother. She went to her artifact cupboard and took a look within before glancing back to her son with an eyebrow raised. Spock was not known to lie.

"All right kiddo, I'll bite. Which one is a forgery?"

Spock instantly pointed to the Inuit figure; his rigid composure falling apart as his excitement at having won his mother over dominated his actions. "This figure's composition is modern, most of the base is synthetic materials whilst the eyes are a metal that can only be found on Cellus III. This piece is hardly native to Earth, unlike the rest of your collection."

Amanda chuckled as she daintily took the Inuit figure into her hands. "Oh Spock... sometimes I wonder if you'll ever learn about _value_ outside of what you read in a textbook."

Obviously this was not the reaction Spock had intended to witness. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he looked to his mother with an almost desperate need to comprehend. "I do not understand."

The woman gazed lovingly at the sculpture for a moment before gently pressing it into her son's hands. The positive emotions she had been bottling within her heart transferred the moment their fingers touched and the boy looked uncomfortable. Spock knew immediately that his mother prized this simple statue above all else in her collection, but _why_? He looked up at her, silently pleading for an answer.

He knew instantly from that coy expression of hers, that Amanda was going to make him work for the information. "This piece holds little or no value to any market in the known universe, and yet it means a lot to me. Why do you think that is?"

Spock frowned slightly and looked to the figurine. "Because you are an emotional creature and have developed an illogical attachment to this item?"

"That's one way of putting it..." Amanda grumbled and crossed her arms; she was hoping his answer would have been a lot less Vulcan. "You're picking up some interesting opinions of your father I see."

"..."

The woman ruffled her son's hair and started to guide him out of the study. The boy made a gesture as he intended to give the statuette back, but Amanda wouldn't accept it.

"I don't think so. That little guy is now yours. He's your punishment for wandering where you shouldn't have wandered - a sort of medieval 'ball and chain'." She shut the heavy door with a snap, making Spock's shoulders drop a fraction in disappointment.

"I am finding you incomprehensible yet again Mother."

Amanda walked at her son's pace down the long hallway which led into their spacious living room. "I'm giving you the responsibility of turning this nobody into _a somebody_."

Silence seemed to answer her as Spock became more confused. It only made Amanda more entertained and she continued with relish. "You see, the item in your hands is only an object... but you can make it a _treasure_. It is a physical representation of a long dead race... but you can make it an individual. Currently that little fisherman has only a face and a bleak future sitting in my relic cabinet... but you can give him a life, a past, a **name**."

"What if I do not wish to?" The boy tilted his head to better search his mother's face.

She wrinkled her nose and tenderly tugged at his pointed ear. "Most boys don't wish to follow through with their punishments, but I have a feeling you will... or else."

"Your argument contains a fallacy; you are attempting to appeal to me using fear."

"Is it working?"

"Negative."

Amanda wondered if her son would ever grow out of how blunt he could be at times. "How about, '_or else I'll tell your father_'?"

"Aa. That would be effective." Spock exclaimed with a note of understanding before stopping in mid-step to stare at the statue yet again. There was one more thing he couldn't figure out about the object, but he didn't know how to phrase the question so that his mother wouldn't be able to give him a cryptic answer. Amanda continued to pass him in order to head towards the kitchen while a smile danced on her lips as Spock called after her. "Mother, what do the symbols on the back of it mean?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out, but I'll give you a clue..."

He should have thought of something less straight-forward. The woman disappeared from view and Spock was forced to perk his ears in order to hear her over the sudden sound of running water. "The language used is a variation on Inuktitut!"

Spock frowned and slowly made his way to his room, pondering the useless task his mother had given him. It took him seconds to pick up his handheld computer and access its extensive database on ancient Terran cultures. Inuit was relatively easy, but the symbol conversion wasn't. Apparently there were a hundred different variations of this particular language. For the bulk of the conversion, he transferred the relevant information over to his father's tricorder and used the scanning function to instantly get an accurate translation.

_For my darling Grand-daughter,  
May you find this culture as interesting as the Mayans  
- David Grayson_

With major disappointment, Spock sat down on his bed and glared at the little Inuit man. It must have been some sort of present from his great-grandfather to his mother, which explained his mother's emotional connection to it. Perhaps there was some story behind who this statue was depicting? He started his research with vigor. Hours later Spock come up with nothing and sat cross-legged on his floor, the figure stood before him with an almost guilty expression on its craggy face.

"She wants me to invent you," he said with an almost impatient drawl. "I do not have time to play with dolls."

After a few minutes of trying to preoccupy himself with an issue of the latest VSA magazine, Spock's eyes flitted back to the fisherman. He slipped off his bed and stared down at him as if he were a giant and the statue were a miniature challenger. He appraised at the Inuit man for a moment before tipping the thing over so it laid on its back. With a huff of annoyance the boy decided to humor his mother and attempt to make this _nobody_ into a _somebody_. Spock sat down heavily and leaned in to examine the figure yet again.

"Who are you, fisherman?" he whispered, a small part of him feeling very ashamed to be talking to himself. He looked to his closed door, then back to his subject.

"I suppose it would be logical to start with a name." The child paused, allowing for inspiration to hit him. It surprised him how quickly everything came – the name, the personality, the story.

"It will be David, after my great-grandfather who unknowingly put me into this situation." Spock's lips twitched somewhat smugly before he proceeded. "You will be the hero of your people - strong, confident, courageous, self-sacrificing. You will be admired throughout your world..."

"You will be _somebody_."

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**Author's Note**:

All right. A new story, a new catergory and an entirely new mood. This is just a bit of foreshadowing and a taste of my writing style for those who haven't been previously exposed. The next chapter will be jumping straight into the story which will be told from Jim's perspective. This story will have an AU feel, though it _could_ work in the 2009 storyline (hence why I stepped out of my TOS comfort zone). Hope you like it! Unlike some of my other works I put a lot of effort into this story, especially in proof-reading. Please feel free to point out any errors you find along the way whether they be plot, grammar or spelling based.

Read and Review!


	2. Chapter One

**Nobody**

_A Star Trek Fan Fiction_

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**Chapter One**

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It started with the rush of sound and the taste of pavement. The smell of garbage wafted into the young man's nose, waking him from what must have been an awful slumber. Unfamiliar sounds pierced his ears which made him groan in protest and attempt to pull his limbs closer to his core. His body hurt. With a flutter of gritty eyelashes, the teen was greeted with the world on its side. Thick shadows of night-time made everything shady and surreal. When was the last time he'd seen the light of day? The shock of realizing he couldn't answer that question made him hyper-aware. His mind began racing to fill in the gaps before this moment – but it couldn't. Bewilderment made him raise his head from the street and assess the foreign environment he suddenly found himself in.

What he discovered was a darkened alleyway leading out into a busy street. The distortion of sounds now seemed to halt as his body adjusted its focus. Crystal clear screaming came from above him, and on a sudden whim, the boy pushed against the concrete beneath him with bruised and calloused hands to find he was bleeding from more than one locale. Sitting up he accessed his face. There was a horrible gash across his eye and his legs felt like the bones within them had splintered into a thousand hot needles. His ribs were bruised or broken, but the pain was within his threshold to bear. With some confusion the teen tried to recall what the hell just happened, but he found he didn't have the slightest clue. Not only that, he had no idea what part of town he was in - if this was a town.

Then in a moment of fearful clarity, the kid realized he didn't even know his own name.

A foreign gasp made the boy look up to find a woman who had just managed to poke her head out of a window. The first thing he noticed was the inhuman face, the second was that she was looked just as bloodied up as he did.

"RUN YOU IDIOT! What the hell are you waiting for!" The voice shrieked in an accent that was unplaceable; her eyes were glassy and a shade of purple the kid had never seen before. There was a mixture of emotions within those large irises that held the boy in thrall until the sound of a weapon discharging made him choke on the breath he was inhaling.

Wounds opened up across the alien's sinuous form as though her tar-black skin was an overripe egg-plant under pressure. Gaping fissures sprayed a shower of dark blood over the window sill in a sickening wave. She dropped limp over the pane, one arm outstretched into the alleyway catching the residual rain leaking from a rusted gutter. The teen stared on in shock for a few moments before the ones responsible for her murder also whipped their heads out to spot him. The boy was caught by their stares like a deer in headlights. They were of the same humanoid build as the woman: extremely tall, dark skinned and silver-haired; their eyes were different though... full of cold, unrelenting malice.

Intent to kill.

Suddenly the kid didn't care that his legs felt like fire, or that he had no idea who or where he was. There was only one option available if he wanted to live, and that was to get as far away from those freaks and as fast as possible.

He vaulted to his feet and started a lopping run for the street. His ribs protested painfully and his head pounded. Instincts seemed to kick in from some recess of his mind, for he found himself weaving to avoid any weapon fire. He didn't even look behind him as he heard the sounds of thick shoes hitting the grating of the fire-escape – then their squealing as they slid down the rusted railings. He didn't dare to look back and see how close death wandered. The boy rounded the corner and was suddenly hit with the unknown.

Flashing lights, billboards, strange sights and even stranger people overwhelmed him with their striking colors and sounds. The majority of the people averaged at about two meters tall, with the same physical attributes as the beings he had just met. As he ran past them, they observed him curiously but made no move to intercept. The boy counted himself lucky that with his lack of height, blending into a crowd wouldn't be that difficult despite being a minority race.

He saw no sign of his pursuers as he kept to the busy streets. With what seemed to him as expert maneuvering, the boy took out everything in his pockets, crammed it down one of his boots, shed his jacket and stole another from an outdoor market. With some cynicism he wondered if the people trying to kill him would catch up to him before the police could. Hell, maybe they _were _the police on this insane world.

The thought made the deep-seeded panic in his mind start to bloom.

He walked for half an hour before he felt safe enough to rest. His body felt like someone had ran him over with a steamer. The blood on his face was drying into uncomfortable flakes and beginning to peel into his eyes. The teen looked around for anything that resembled a public washroom to clean himself up in, but all the signage was in a different language than his own. Frustration and fear crawled up into his head. What was he supposed to do now? Who the hell _was_ he and _why_ did those men kill that woman? He must have jumped from that building to escape them, probably resulting in hitting his head... but why would he leave that poor woman behind? It didn't seem right…

The teen shook his head, instantly wishing that he hadn't. His head throbbed and to make matters worse his nose started to bleed. To staunch the blood, the kid pulled out the stuff from his boots and looked through what was once his belongings. There was a napkin from a diner - the advertisement of which was written in bad standard. He held it up to his nose as curiosity made him continue his search. There was a pack of cigarettes, a collapsible pen, and a wad of bills - all of which might have been more familiar to a stranger.

As he held up the cigarettes with a bewildered expression, he caught a blessed earful of English coming from the other side of the street and he turned his head to investigate.

The name of the place was unintelligible, but the people outside were so racially diverse that they made a crayon box look monotone. He spotted an Orion male flirting with an Andorian female and watched as some Terrans laughed at his inevitable bad luck.

The kid rose from the bench and navigated over to the building they were huddled around. Maybe someone there would know what was going on, or maybe someone would recognize him? Hell, he'd just be happy to hear a word of English. From the look of the planet there didn't seem to be that many humans around…

"Hey, kid. Iden-card?"

The voice was deep and laced with a harsh accent. It made the young man turn and get a look at who was addressing him. He looked human enough, though his skin held a subtle hint at his heritage – Klingon.

"I was just mugged… I need to call someone, the authorities or whatever…" The rasp in his voice surprised him, but not as much as the concern that suddenly appeared in the bouncer's eyes; maybe there was more human in this guy than he thought.

The bouncer barked something into the dim-lit pub that the teen couldn't decipher before he gently pushed the boy towards the bar. "Talk to Auri, she'll take care of you till we can get a medic to look at you. DON'T STRAY. I'm watchin' you kid." He made a gesture with two of his fingers that was meant to intimate. The boy merely nodded dumbly, shocked at his luck, and entered the pub.

Like a ghost he threaded through the rainbow of people and sat down at the bar feeling worse by the second. He removed the napkin from his nose and tested to see if it was still bleeding. An older Caitian with her hair done up in a loose bun strolled over from behind the counter and poured the teen a glass of some clear mystery fluid. She was kind of pretty in a earthly way - organized chaos all wrapped up in glossy orange fur.

"Looks like you took a bruising all right. Here's a pain killer, I already called for a doctor so all you have to do is sit tight and tell me your story." She patted the kid on the hand and took out what looked like a wet-nap from her apron pocket. "Mind if I clean you up a little though? I have a feeling there's a pretty face under all that blood, and I don't want my customers getting skiddish at the sight of you."

"Uh… sure." He said lamely before talking a sip of whatever Auri gave him. Turns out it was straight vodka and it took a lot of bravado to swallow it while looking like he wasn't going to puke. Auri grinned and began to scrub at his face rather tenderly.

"Got a name kid?"

His eyes locked on to hers for a split second before he stuttered, "J-John…" It didn't sound right to him; close, but not right. The teen winced as the woman pulled his face into the light. Her sudden roughness made the boy wonder if she picked up on the deceit. Lying to this Caitian didn't feel moral, but if someone wanted to kill him it was best to be careful.

"You visiting Sera with your parents, or are you with the batch of Star-kids that shuttled in a few days back?" The Caitian turned around and rummaged in the cupboard behind her before finding a pack of swabs. The teen wondered what they were doing back there in the first place before she dipped one in his vodka and started to attack the gash over his eye. He winced and pulled away.

"Is… is that even sterile?"

Auri looked to the bloodied swab and then the alcohol. "It is now. Don't be a baby and let me finish. You didn't answer my question, what brings you to this part of town in the dead of night?"

Before the boy could open his mouth, he heard the bouncer growl something over the heads of the pub-crawlers which made Auri freeze. Out of curiosity the teen swiveled on his stool and tried to get a look at the problem, but the lighting in the place as so dark it took him a moment to figure out what was happening. He blanched as he recognized two of the three silver-haired beings talking to the part-Klingon; immediately he twisted to get Auri's attention.

"If they get a hold of me, I think they'll kill me." The words came out in a single breath, killing the semblance of security he had been feeling under Auri's care.

The Caitian stared wide-eyed at the boy in front of her. "You're in trouble with the Executioners?" Her voice was a fragile whisper which made the hair on the back of the teen's neck rise with the tension in the room. She was looking at him as if he was already a dead man. Everyone was suddenly talking in whispers and trying not to make eye contact with those in the entrance hall; the suspense was more than the boy could take and something in his face registered to Auri.

"Go." She hissed, pushing him off the stool from across the counter before shooing him with the bloody wet-nap. "Hide in the woman's bathroom if you dare, there's no back door or windows in that direction… so if they do find you… you're cornered."

'John' was about to ask if he could take the back door instead, but the distinct sound of the Bouncer sailing into the pool table made the boy slink out towards the washrooms. The neon sign beckoned to him and he took a quick look around to familiarize himself in the area in case he needed to double back while chased. Feeling a little more confident, he entered the woman's washroom – glad there didn't seem to be anyone else in there to explain himself to.

Part of him felt like a coward - hiding from the enemy in a bathroom. That part was quickly put on the backburner as shouts came from the other side of the door. From the sounds of things Auri and the other bartenders were trying to get 'The Executioners' to leave with no luck. He heard the familiar sounds of heavy shoes in the corridor, then the subtle squeak of the men's washroom door being opened. The teen knew he didn't have much time – death was going to come for him if he didn't think… and fast.

The garbage can was too small, the stalls were only going to buy him a few seconds, and the small love seat by the sinks didn't provide enough cover. Auri was right about there being no windows… but out of the corner of his eye there came a flash of inspiration. The ceiling was dropped for easy access to plumbing and electrical… and in the case of this windowless lavatory – air circulation.

With more vigor than his body felt like churning out, the boy scrambled on top of the counter-top and avoided sinks as he walked across the surface. He then hoisted himself up on the narrow stall walls and in a freak balancing act, managed to remove a tile and shimmy himself into a very narrow and very dusty crawl space. After a little maneuvering he dropped the mineral-fibre tile back into place with some coordinating between his left arm and leg. Claustrophobia was a much better fate than whatever awaited him below.

Just as the tile slide into place, he heard the door open and a tall Seran enter to search the room. The boy held his breath, afraid that the metal framework of the ceiling wouldn't hold up his weight for long. Any creak, any whisper of clothing against plaster, would be the last sound he ever made.

The teen waited for several long minutes before he heard the door swing shut. He hazarded a few gulps of stale air before creeping slowly to the center of the crawl space. The ventlation pipes and heating ducts made a maze of his hiding place, but the boy managed to work with what little room he had. It took a lot of willpower to fight the urge to sneeze at dustballs the size of his fist, and a lot of careful planning not to place all his weight in one locale. After five minutes, in which he only managed to creep a meter through some ill-placed wiring, his ears were met with multiple screams and a large explosion. From inside the ceiling, the kid could easily pin-point where it came from. The tiles that had once hung over the bar were blasted back - nearly into the kid's face. Fire began to lick at everything it could, exploring the crawl space and flooding the area with inconsistent light. The air in the spot he occupied suddenly became very warm and flecks of debris fluttered about the plaster like fireflies.

Shimming like a snake, the young man moved closer to the flames, shielding his face from time to time against the heat. He needed see if there was a way he could escape, and to do that he needed to know if his enemies were still lurking in the pub.

Just as he was about to peer through a convenient hole, the metal lattice supporting the tiles gave way, and the boy plummeted several feet to land on top of a thankfully bare table.

Pain, and lots of it, shot through every fiber of his being. He felt as though every inch of him was black, blue and broken. Groaning he turned over, expecting to find laser rifles trained on his face, but the bar was deserted – with a few exceptions.

There was a dead body with a billiard cue jutting out of it's chest; the horror captured in the man's face made the adolescent look away hurriedly. The direction he turned to revealed another body, this one slumped over the smoldering bar. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized it as Auri. In shock, he limped over to examine her, but found that she was stirring. She was making feeble attempts to not slide to the floor.

"Auri!" He moved to try and assist her, but there was blood pouring down her body and the heat was intense. The fire at her back was burning her flesh, sending the horrible smell of burning fur throughout the room. It set the boy's coat on fire when he summoned up his courage to dragged her to the other side of the counter. When the teen helped her sit back onto on the nearby stools, he noticed that she had been shot in the abdomen with an old fashioned firearm.

"J-John… how did you…? They searched… couldn't find you." Her voice was becoming faint and she was drawing in tiny breaths at what seemed like three puffs a second.

"Calm down… deep breaths. I need to get you to the hospital. Tell me where one is and I'll… I'll hail a cab or something." He bent to pick her up, and managed it with some difficulty. Auri screamed out in pain but became quiet as she adjusted to the kid's arms. Blood was trickling everywhere leaving a spotted trail on the ruined carpet.

"C-cab?" She muttered faintly, choking on the smoke that was wafting from the burning wood and alcohol. "Boy… you need to… t-take me down the block… to a hotel there… doctor… go by the backdoor… this way." She clutched the teen like he was her last link to life before pointing to the door leading into the kitchen. The man didn't argue as he slipped into the back of the bar and tried to find a way out.

After a few minutes of navigating through the miniature kitchen, the teen kicked at the exit leading into the alleyway and started a stunted jog towards a distant building Auri pointed out. Sirens and people shouting came from the parallel street, urging the young man to go faster in his attempt to clear the area. He jumped at every sound he encountered along the way, and nearly dropped Auri as what looked like a cross between a raccoon and a rabbit tripped him.

When he recovered from the loss of balance, the teen looked up to scope out what was a very decrepit building. Half of it was supported by a combination of orange tarp and rusted scaffolding, while the other half was peeling paint and crumbling to the street. A partially lit sign identified it as a Hotel – or to be specific, 'HO' with a few letters missing.

"Auri… is this the place?" The boy panted, adjusting his grip on the Caitian and causing her to whimper in agony. The blood from her stomach was pooling in the spaces between their bodies. It made the kid feel sick.

Auri trembled and opened one of her eyes – a flash of lamplight yellow in the shadows of the alley."Yeah... that it." She closed her eyes again and rested her head against the boy's chest. Her breath was coming in sharp gasps and she could barely whisper instructions. "Go… go to the intercom system…"

Her hands clenched the material that made up the kid's shirt as he moved to cross the street. He dodged the neon lights and fading street lamps, the claws of his burden grazing his skin with every jolt in their path. The security light that hung above the main entrance made the boy feel jittery. He paused as he stared at the digital directory with a dumb expression. "What name am I looking for?"

The Caitian buried her face in his chest and muffled something the adolescent couldn't hear. He shuffled her gently and repeated the question, trying not to sound desperate despite feeling like a large bull's-eye in a spotlight. "The name Auri… I'm going to need it if we're going to live through this."

She winced as she was moved but nodded gravely.

"_McCoy_… you're looking for McCoy."


	3. Chapter Two

**Nobody**

_A Star Trek Fan Fiction_

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Chapter Two

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The darkness of night played on the boy's nerves like a master on the harp. His eyes zigzagged in their sockets as he tried to find anyone that could be perceived as a potential enemy. In the distance he could still hear the wail of a siren and see the orange glow where the pub now in flames used to be. Shock was wrapping itself around his mind as he realized his wake was filled with destruction and danger.

If only he knew _why_!

When Auri directed his attention back to the intercom system, he couldn't stop jolting nervously at every shadow that seemed to flicker at the edge of his vision; he was desperate to get behind some walls. Quickly he scanned the names that were digitally displayed on the security interface. Most the pixels were out, so there were a few that _might_ have been McCoy, or McNabb, or even Michael. The teen went with the first one and prayed for good luck – not that this night generated any for him so far.

The response was delayed, but after a minute a gruff voice answered.

"Do you have any idea what time of it is? What kind of yellow-livered piece of trash calls people at this ungodly hour? Tracy is that you…? I'm going to do your next prostate exam with a fork-"

"M-McCoy… it's Auri…" The woman said weakly before the man progressed with his rant. Her face was ebbing from the receiver as her carrier struggled to get her head level. The boy's arms were starting to protest the constant strain. "I need help… _please_..."

Immediately there was a buzz from the door and the boy went for it. It was a pain to try and grasp the handle around his bulky cargo, but he managed to pull it off and get inside. The well-lit lobby hurt his eyes and he tried to keep his mind on getting to wherever this doctor was. He couldn't afford being in the spotlight like this, not when there were strange gang members out there trying to kill him.

Mirrors lined the walls, and made the boy stare in shock at what he saw there. If he didn't know any better he would have thought himself a stranger. Bright blue orbs looked out from behind long eyelashes encrusted with dirt and blood. If he didn't know any better he'd put his age at around seventeen, though his mind felt to him as if it were much older. Auri looked worse for wear of course, like she was rescued out of a nightmare. The large bundle of limbs in his arms muttered something about the fifth floor, so they boarded the elevator and hoped that the security cameras weren't getting a good look at their faces – not that it would matter with the layer of soot and grime they accumulated.

Once the elevator doors opened there was a rough looking man waiting to receive them. His eyes were of the friendly sort, yet blood-shot and weary looking enough to make the boy wonder. The discoloration made the blue of his irises stand out more than ever, and the teen was momentarily entranced. The doctor however, was not.

"What's the matter kid, never seen five-o-clock shadow before?" McCoy grumbled as he carefully took Auri out of his arms and started to rush her towards an open door at the end of the corridor; mumbles the kid could barely hear wafted after them, "Why can't it be a cup of sugar for once…? Just once I'd like to be woken up in the middle of the night for something simple." His voice faded as he entered the apartment. The teen followed him, jumping slightly as McCoy barked for him to shut the door.

The doctor laid Auri out on his kitchen table and gave her a quick once over. His expression turned into an intense frown before he swore and began running around to collect various tools. "Thought it might have been phaser fire but damn… she was hit with archaic weaponry." His quiet mutterings made the blond wonder if he should be paying attention or not. He stood awkwardly by the door rubbing dried blood off his hands. The doctor continued, "Never thought I'd see a bullet wound that was out of a textbook. Second degree burns on her back and some bruising on her face... Jesus kid, what did you rescue her from? " There was a certain note in the man's voice that cued the teen to answer.

He didn't know where to start, but started anyway.

"Some guys called The Executioners blew up the pub we were at... I didn't see her get shot though..." The boy replied, feeling useless as he hovered around watching.

The doctor pulled out a hypo-spray and put it to Auri's neck, making her slump unconsciously to the table's surface. He then proceeded to cut away portions of her clothing to get at the wound. The boy decided to turn his head at that moment, but after a few seconds he couldn't stop his eyes from sliding back to the dying woman.

The hole in her stomach was small, but the blood and gore that surrounded it made it look a lot worse. McCoy took out a pair of surgical scissors and some gauze before looking to his guest with an intimidating eye. "Get your ass over here, I'm making you my nurse. Hand me that hypo-spray with the yellow dial and get me a pot of boiling water, I'll need to sterilize... Joanna had her hands all over my tools and I don't know if my disinfectant is compatible with Caitian biology."

The kid did as he was told and ordered a pot of water at 100 degrees Celsius from the replicator. All that happened was a fizzle of smoke, which smelt absolutely awful, and a long mechanical whine ending with a pop. The doctor looked up from whatever he was doing and barked at the boy with more crankiness than a groggy Klingon. "Do it the old fashioned way, everything on Sera is a useless pile of circuitry. Their stone-age technology still functions ad a god damned joke- damn miracle if you ask me. The pot is under the sink and the stove is pretty self explanatory."

In a few minutes there was a pot of steaming water sitting next to the doctor and his stainless steel tools were within it. He fished them out with a pair of tongs before going to work on Auri's mopped up wound.

"She'll be all right, but the trip here did some damage she's going to have to live with. I told her she should have skipped town, but no... the idiot had to go get herself _shot_." He punctuated his sentence with a snip of his scissors. "Stubborn woman. She makes my ex-wife look like a tribble."

The kid's forehead furrowed as he tried to comprehend what the man was talking about. "Wait... what do you mean she should have skipped town?"

McCoy looked up from stitching the woman shut. "She works as an informant for Starfleet. The Executioners found out about her awhile ago, but the fool thought she wasn't a big enough target - yet." His expression turned sour as he realized he was saying too much to a kid he didn't know. "That's all you need to know kiddo. Just who the hell are you anyway? Not many humans on Sera that aren't in uniform..."

The boy's stomach did a guilty roll. "Aa... that's a funny story. I suppose you can call me _John_-"

The doctor interrupted testily, "What do you mean, _you suppose_? It's a name kid. It's John or it isn't John. John _what_?"

"I don't know..." The boy had the distinct impression he was being interrogated, and he didn't like it. "To be honest, I have absolutely no clue who, where or what I'm doing here. All I know is that I woke up in an alleyway a couple of hours ago and I wandered into the nearest pub and Auri was there ready to clean me up."

"That's your story? _Amnesia_?" The doctor strolled over with a pair of bloody scissors in his hand. The boy backed up instinctively and put up his hands. He did not want his night to end with fighting a sleep-deprived physician.

"Look, I know it's weird... but how the hell do you think _I_ feel? I don't even know if I have a family out there looking for me - or if these Executioners murdered them. They killed one of their own kind right in front of me. Right... like right..." He couldn't explain exactly what happened. The words were too much to say. His eyes glazed over and the image of that Seran woman spraying blood up the wall repeated itself over in his head. This night was a night from hell and all he wanted to do was sleep it off. "God... I just want to know who I am so I can go home – if I even have a home to go to."

Something in the kid's voice registered with the doctor and his expression softened. McCoy placed his tools back into the pot of hot water, creating pink clouds of tainted blood. "All right kid, relax..." He washed his hands then headed back over to his next patient. "Let me take a look at that gash above your eye, I noticed you favored your right leg as well… strip down and I'll see what I can do-"

**CRASH!**

The young man couldn't relax - no one could. He heard the sound of breaking glass from outside the building and tensed. Just as he was about to go to the window to take a look at what was going on, the doctor shoved him aside. "Don't be an idiot! Stay away from the windows, they'll recognize you!" He quickly peered out the small window in the kitchen and paled. "Fuck... it's them. They followed you, and I bet they're not the cup of sugar type either..."

The boy backed up into the wall in a state of panic. His mind was working a mile a minute to figure out how to get out of his new mess. He looked to the floor and groaned. "McCoy... it's the blood. Look." He pointed to the droplets created by Auri as they carried her to the table. It would give them a trail straight to the doctor's door.

It was McCoy's turn to panic. His eyes flickered to the bedroom opposite the kitchen. "I have a seven-year old daughter in the other room and they're not going to think twice about..." He didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to.

Both men looked at each other with a look that clearly said, "_think of something!_"

The kid took a deep breath and quelled the fear that was threatening to drown him. "Your apartment... it's on the right side of the building?"

"Yes."

The boy raced to the room on his left, pausing only to locate the window. It was above the bed of a sleeping girl clutching a large purple teddy-bear. What he saw out the window made his demeanor become more confident. He had a plan.

"We can escape using the scaffolding. I'll take Auri with me on my back and you can take your kid. Just tell me where the nearest safe haven is and we'll take refuge there... everything will be fine." He looked back to the doctor with a shadow of a smile.

McCoy ran a hand through his hair, "All right... go get Auri. We'll hide in another apartment... there's a cadet named Chapel on the first floor who will take us in." He knelt on the hardwood floor and started to shake his child awake. "Jo-Jo honey, this is an emergency… you have to wake up sweetheart."

Joanna woke very sleepily, but upon seeing a beaten up stranger in her room, her baby blues widened. "Dad, there's a stranger in my bedroom."

"I know bumblebee, I'll explain everything when we have the time. Right now I need you bright-eyed and bushy tailed. That's a good girl." His voice was attempting to be soothing, but his tones were laced with fear. He knew what monsters these Executioners could be and if they got their hands on Joanna…

The boy let McCoy reassure his daughter as he raced into the kitchen and picked up Auri over his shoulder. Just as he turned to head back to Joanna's room, the lights went out, engulfing everything with overwhelming blackness. After some cursing he tried to blindly navigate back to McCoy's daughter's room, yet ran into the corner of the table and cursed loudly. In the silence that followed, he heard the sound of angry voices coming from the stairs down the hall. The kid picked up speed and scrambled to begin his escape plan, shutting the bedroom door behind him. "Doctor, we're out of time!" He frantically rushed to the window and slid it open. "We need to go now!"

McCoy looked to the bedroom door, the darkness putting definite tremble in his voice. There were the sounded of gears turning in the man's mind and he looked to the boy in the window.

"No, you go. I'll buy you some time."

"Dad? Why is the power out? What's going on...?"

The sounds of someone trying to break the door down was evident from where they were all standing. McCoy bent down on one knee and kissed his daughter's forehead. "Jo, you're a smart girl. Keep this idiot in line and lead him to Christine's room okay? Tell her that it's an emergency and that you and these two need to stay the night."

The crash of wood splintering filled the air as Joanna choked back a sob. The teen pushed the girl out onto the scaffolding before following her with Auri. He shut the window just as the back of McCoy charged into the pitch black of his living quarters and demanded to know what was going on. For a doctor, that man had a spine.

"Hurry… we need to clear the area in case they guess we took the window." The boy hissed to the little girl at his hip. Joanna shook her head and put a finger to her lips, making silence rule the area. She was all business now that her father put her in charge of making sure this battered teenager didn't get them killed.

From beneath them they could hear people quietly clambering up the lower levels, ready to block off any means of escape. Unfortunately this meant their safe haven was now unreachable. Johanna's large blue eyes wavered in the dim lighting of the rooftop billboards next door. "What are we going to do? Christine's room is down there…"

The boy turned around, and like a thief in the night, he slowly tread to the next available window. He gestured to McCoy's daughter and she silently moved beside him. The look of confusion she gave him was almost endearing. He pointed to the window leading into what looked like a kitchen and started to slide open the pane. Joanna looked horrified. "We're breaking into a stranger's house…!" Her voice came out a subtle squeak, but it was still too loud for comfort.

With a gentle shove, the kid ushered Joanna through. She went reluctantly and nearly tripped over a potted plant that was resting on the sill. When her face turned to look at him from the inside of the kitchen, the boy followed hauling Auri with him. He shut the window once they were all safely inside and turned to look around at their new surroundings.

Everything gleamed in the dim neon lighting from outside. There were no dishes in the sink, no clutter on the dinning table, and no sign of life for that matter. The teen slinked into the living room and set Auri down on the sofa – or what felt like a sofa anyway. He was careful to avoid windows and to not make a sound. Johanna followed his example, but navigating a stranger's house in the dark was daunting.

From the safety of this new apartment, they heard McCoy's door burst open and the sounds of a scuffle taking place. The kid ran to the door to look through the spy-glass embedded within, but he couldn't see much in the cruddy phosphorescent emergency lights lining the corridor. McCoy's door was at the end of the hall to the left, while this one was facing a very uninteresting stretch of hallway featuring patched drywall. Johanna scurried to the cyan glow that splayed out from the gap beneath the entrance and together they saw a scene unravel that made their hearts feel heavy.

"This building is full of Starfleet officers! You can't-"

McCoy was trying to wrestle out of the grip of one of the rough looking Serans, but the brute belted the doctor upside the head in mid-sentence. The man's head lolled back and a small tickle of blood rolled down his chin from a busted lip. He was merely dazed, but it helped the tall and deadly trio drag McCoy to the stairway. Everything looked so much more horrible in the dim blue haze that came from the strips fixed to the ceiling.

"Father…" came a hushed voice from the boy's feet. Sparing a glance in Johanna's direction, he saw tears rolling down the portions of her face that were illuminated by the crack in the door. The adolescent was drowning in empathy watching her pale face wrinkle in absolute horror. This entire situation was his fault - first that Seran woman getting murdered, then Auri being shot… and now this child's father being kidnapped. Worst of all, he didn't even know _what_ he did wrong to have such terrible events befall each of his Samaritans.

Why were they abducting the doctor anyway? If they wanted to kill him they would have already; if they wanted information they would have interrogated him right there, unless they had reasons not to. It wasn't like anyone was going to call for help with the electricity down.

When The Executioners left, the young man went to comfort the crying figure at his feet. He knelt, and in muted tones he stroked her chestnut hair. He tried to tell her that everything was going to be all right - yet the tears didn't stop. Why should they? She was only seven, and he was a stranger that appeared in the dead of night to put her father in danger.

Giving up the futile attempt, the teen rose and went to check on Auri, but as he pivoted, he came face to face with someone who had snuck up behind them both like death himself. The boy only got a glimpse of cold brown irises before he felt a painful pinch somewhere around his collarbone and he fell to the hardwood floor like a sack of potatoes.


	4. Chapter Three

**Nobody**

_A Star Trek Fan Fiction_

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* * *

**Chapter Three**

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The world was as black as china ink, and from the depths of that infinite darkness came a series of unfamiliar events. They began to form themselves before his eyes, along with emotions from a past he could barely remember. There was the raw hunger he felt gnawing in the empty pit of his stomach; it made him feel ill. Strange primal urges were heightened in his desperation for food that he didn't feel like himself. He remembered fighting his older brother for a battered apple… hitting him in the face until the boy hit back, and the weight of his actions dawned on him. They were turning into monsters; but monsters were better then the dust they swept out of the incinerators – the people who were deemed unworthy.

Before them was humanity falling into pieces for relying on one voice. A voice that was just as much villain as hero. The voice haunted his dreams… told him to do things he didn't want to do. Told thousands to die for the sake of the rest. _Thousands_. He had never imagined such death before, and now he had _seen_ it – been a part of it.

He remembered people that had taken him away from that place. They were going back home where the demons wouldn't claim him, and he wouldn't have to look at the dust anymore. The dust he once respected, or rivaled or even called friend.

He went to a world of bright lights where he could drown in something other then misery and helplessness - a place he could recover from the horrors. He remembered running an errand. It was buying cigarettes in a store he shouldn't have been in, and hearing something he shouldn't have heard.

Screaming. It was a woman screaming… just like his friends as they dragged them to the incinerators…

_No… no more…_

The boy sat bolt upright from his position on the sofa and let out a choked gasp that made his throat hurt. His eyes were so wide with misplaced fear that the dawn light penetrating through the windows nearly blinded him. More noises erupted unbidden from his throat. The teen felt as if he were trying to cough out the nightmares he just experienced rather then store them in his fractured memory. It was hard to breathe through the pain in his chest and he winced at every movement. He trembled for a moment and willed himself to draw his arms around his knees before looking around at his new surroundings with some apprehension.

The apartment looked a lot different in daylight. It was still sparse, but what little was present seemed interesting enough. The scarred coffee table had circuitry and some wires on it, as well as accompanying paperwork. The teen gave it a quick read and saw the Starfleet symbol at the top of it – how he recognized it without the aid of his memory was beyond him, but such things were best set aside for the moment. Right now he needed to determine the location of Auri and Johanna. For a moment he wondered if he had been dreaming this entire time and the girl and Auri were just illusions, but after brushing his fingers over his beaten up face the fragile doubts ebbed away; after all, Alice didn't get out of the rabbit hole sitting around pondering reality.

"You are awake."

The voice was monotone, yet it still managed to make the boy jump and wrench his head around to the source. His neck let out a jolt of pain to remind him that movement was unappreciated at the moment. God his body hurt. The boy tried not to let his weakness show as he appraised the newcomer, wondering if he could best him in a fight if it came to that. The man was a tall, gangly, young Vulcan and he stood serenely at the entrance to the kitchen. There was a mug of something steaming in his hand.

After getting over the shock of his appearance the boy gave a hazy smile. "Somehow I'm not certain that being awake right now is a good thing…" He rubbed his collarbone, wincing slightly. "Was that you who karate chopped my neck? It wasn't really neccess-"

"You were intruding, such actions are be expected. I did not intend for you to be unconscious for such a long length of time, however - I am late for a seminar."

Was this kid for real? He was acting as if a stranger frolicking through his room with a wounded Caitian and depressed seven-year-old was an everyday occurrence. The blond ran a hand through his hair and chuckled nervously at the situation he found himself in. "Yeah… seminar… _okay_. I suppose I'll be on my way then. Where's the cat-girl I dragged in here last night?"

"She and McCoy's daughter are with Cadet Chapel. She has the means to see to the injured Caitian and she is also familiar to the young girl. You, however, are not. I find this odd." There was a subtle darkening to the Vulcan's tone that made the adolescent feel several degrees colder despite no change to the external environment.

"Uh… yeah. Long story." He smiled and got up off the couch; every inch of him protested against the action. As soon as he managed to stand he noticed his shoes were missing. They were no where in sight, which was a bad sign considering there wasn't many nooks or crannies in this room to hide them.

The Vulcan stepped forward and set his beverage down on the counter beside him before fully emerging into the living room. "If you are looking for your footwear, you will not find them until you answer my questions."

The kid laughed, not believing this guy's methods. "You're joking right? You're a Starfleet cadet and the only interrogation technique you could come up with was to hide my shoes?"

"I was unaware that you intended to be uncooperative." He tilted his head and flexed the fingers of one of his hands absent-mindedly. As he talked, the Vulcan strode purposely between the boy and the door. Instantly the kid countered by taking a backwards step towards the window he used as an entrance last night. The boy sensed a silent game of cat and mouse and it was obvious who was who. His mind knew that the Vulcan would probably tear him apart in a fight, especially since the kid was stiff from last night's injuries. He decided to stretch out his diplomatic skills.

"All right… I get the picture tough guy. I'm afraid my answers are going to frustrate the hell out of you though, since I have no idea who I am or what I-"

"You are James Tiberius Kirk. Human. Age 17. Place of Origin - Earth."

The boy's jaw dropped a few centimeters, but he immediately closed it. His eyes were searching the young man's face for any sign of deceit but there was none on that angular, stony visage. James didn't know how to properly respond, but that didn't stop him from blurting, "How the hell do you know that!"

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. It was obvious he was amused by his prisoners actions. "After I rendered you unconscious I took a hand, face and retinal scan in order to run the data through Starfleet's database. What I found most intriguing about my search was that that you were not in there to find. I am the most proficient computer technician among current non-commission Starfleet personnel and I was unable to obtain any information beyond your name, age and species." The Vulcan narrowed his eyes. It was obvious he assumed this 'intruder' of his was an enemy.

James T. Kirk raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "Honestly, you know _way_ more about me then I do. I have to say I'm a little rattled at that… I mean I'm _seventeen_! Well… _apparently_. What shenanigans are going to land me a confidential file with the Federation? Did I blow something up I shouldn't have?" It would explain why there were a group of alien mobsters trying to kill him. "Maybe I'm some sort of spy, and one of my gadgets backfired…?"

The Vulcan looked at Kirk as if he were some kind of idiot. "I do not believe you."

The human rolled his eyes and started to pace back and forth on the Vulcan's rug. "Look. Seriously, I don't remember anything… but I really wish I did. You have no idea how messed up this all is. Everywhere I go someone dies or gets hurt! No joke. I'm leaving a trail of freakin' blood and I have no idea why."

They stared at each other for a few tense moments before the Vulcan moved several paces forward. "I am finding this story of yours hard to believe. I need to be sure that I can trust you and I need to have all the available information on this particular situation before I can take steps to solve the problem." There was a strange undertone to those emotionless words, but Kirk couldn't quite put a finger on what would cause it. If he had to hazard a guess, he'd say that the Vulcan was suddenly uncomfortable.

"Well there is no way you can be sure. You'll just have to make a leap of faith and trust me."

"Vulcans do not make 'leaps of faith'."

"There's a first time for everything."

The Vulcan looked like he was suffering from some sort of internal conflict raging within. He kept clenching then unclenching his hands into fists. It made Jim nervous.

"I don't trust you."

"Whatever, I'll work at it then. I have to admit breaking into your apartment in the dead of night with a little girl and a wounded alien is a bad place to start any working relationship..." He looked around before adopting a small smile. "So, do you have anything to eat? I'm starving. I can't remember the last time I ate…" With that he wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. His host followed him into the room with confusion written all over his features. The blonde paid him no attention as he grabbed an apple from the crisper and took a large bite. He was momentarily stunned by the taste.

"Huh. I think I like apples." He appraised the fruit with a expression bordering on the philosophical. " So, I'm James T. Kirk - according to you - so does that mean I get to come up with _your_ name? I have a feeling getting your fingerprints and running them through a database while your sleeping is going to be a lot more difficult then it sounds."

The Vulcan looked dumbfounded for a few moments before replying quietly. "That will not be necessary." His eyes flitted to Jim's face. "My name is Spock."

"_Spock_…" for some reason the kid liked the sound of that. "Cool, very original. So now what do you suggest we do? Are you planning on holding me prisoner, or can I make bail and check up on my friends?" If he could call them that.

He took another bite of his apple and started to rummage around for a more proper breakfast. He didn't trust the replicators after the failure of McCoy's.

Spock left the kitchen, pausing to fetch his steaming mug from the counter. In silence he wandered around the living room collecting various items as he sipped his beverage. Kirk followed him with his eyes, now playing the role of the observer; however, he was a lot more vocal in nature then the Vulcan.

"What are you doing?"

The young man looked up from the tricorder that appeared in his hand. "I am packing a few essential items in the event I will not be returning here in the short term. I have hypothesized from the limited information available that you tend to be unpredictable, and if I am to remain in your company for an extended period of time, it is best to be ready for anything."

Kirk blinked and finished his apple. "That conclusion already? I don't know if I should be flattered…"

"Under the circumstances I believe flattery is acceptable. The probability that - given the previous events you have inadvertently hinted at – I would have the notion to accompany you, is extremely low."

"I didn't think Vulcan's had whims."

Spock stiffened and stood at his door. "I said _notion_."

A grin couldn't help but surface on Jim's lips at the Vulcan's gall. "If I'm to be following you anywhere I think I'll need my shoes."

Spock replied as quickly as a computer, "They are on the other side of the door. I did not think someone would steal them due to the fact they are filthy and rather pungent."

Jim laughed openly, the nervousness he had about Spock completely dissolved. The Vulcan was very interesting. With a wide grin he walked to Spock's side. "At least they match the rest of my outfit…" He looked at his clothing with a frown. His t-shirt might have been white at some point, but now it was very grey and covered with Auri's blood. The jacket he stole last night was tattered and grimy from crawling through the pub's ceiling and charred in places from the explosion that took place afterward. The only thing that retained some semblance of wear-ability was his black jeans, since the blood didn't show.

Spock blinked, "Yes. I suppose it would." He turned to the bedroom that in McCoy's cookie-cutter apartment would have been Johanna's room. After a minute he returned with some neatly folded laundry under his arm. "We will go to Cadet Chapel's apartment to discuss your condition. Your Caitian ally is there, so you may inquire about her health when we arrive."

The teen shook his head, his face incredulous. "Wow. Do all Vulcan's talk like you do… or are you a special case? I have this strange urge to give you a wedgie..."

The Vulcan merely ignored the boy and opened his door. Jim's shoes stood off to the side, the blood splatter on them even brighter in the morning light. Spock allowed Jim some time to cram the footwear on his feet before beginning to trek towards the elevator. Jim followed, his eyes taking in every crack and stain the hallway walls. This place was definitely a dump.

The elevator ride was awkward since Spock didn't feel the need to talk, whilst Jim was itching to distract himself from the pain of his battered body. It was a relief to hear the sound of chatter coming from a ground floor apartment marked '102'. Spock knocked smartly on the door and steeled himself for the inevitable greeting.

Christine Chapel opened the door and gave the loveliest smile at the sight of the Vulcan. Jim's lip twitched as he recognized the symptoms of a hardcore crush. Chapel's blonde hair was neatly tied back and she was wearing her cadet uniform, which Jim noticed hugged her form rather nicely. The effect was lost on Spock who merely looked at her as if she were the coat rack. The woman stepped to the side and gestured for them both to come in.

"Ensign Spock! I see your mystery guest isn't an axe murderer after all."

"I never implied that he was."

"Hn," the nurse hummed as she looked to Jim with concern, "What did you do to yourself? That gash on your head looks badly infected. Come into the kitchen so I can see better…" Chapel gestured to the area before running off to grab her first aid kid.

In the corner of the room sat Auri and Joanna. Both females had grim expressions on their faces as they stared at the uneaten toast before them. At the sight of Kirk, their faces changed to opposite ends of the emotional spectrum.

"John! Oh thank the stars you're all right. I heard from Miss Chapel that someone else volunteered to take care of you… and I didn't know what to think-"

"This is all your fault! If you hadn't shown up my dad would be home!" Joanna interrupted with her high-pitched tones. Guilt ate away at Kirk as he watched angry tears well in the child's eyes. His appearance was definitely the catalyst for the sudden whirlwind of emotion belching forth from the seven-year-old's mouth. "Now the bad guys have him and I'm all alone on this stupid planet! ALL ALONE." She picked up her piece of toast and threw it at Jim. It bounced off his chest leaving a buttery stain.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" She erupted into sobs, leaving everyone momentarily dumbfounded.

Christine moved in as damage control and rubbed the child's back as she cried. "Jo-Jo, it's going to be all right. Your Dad will be fine, we just need to find him okay? To do that we need you to be a good girl and help us out all right? Didn't your father say that it was your job to look after that guy? Throwing toast at him isn't really doing your job now is it?"

Muffled words came from the vicinity of the girl's arms and Christine just kept right on consoling her. Meanwhile Auri slipped out from behind the table and joined Spock and Kirk.

"I didn't think they'd follow us to McCoy's…" The Caitian said in a whisper that trembled slightly. "It's my fault he's been taken. The Executioners normally don't take prisoners… he's in a very bad situation John. What did you do to them to make them so angry?"

"I wish to know as well." Spock added, a hard stare joining with Auri's curious one.

Kirk backed up and raised his hands. "I don't know! I swear! How many times do I have to tell you people?" Frustration, guilt, homesickness and fear made a medley of feelings that Jim just couldn't cope with. He was tired, and hungry and very, very, VERY sore. He looked over the shoulder of the inquiring Caitian for a way out.

"Christine, can I use your shower?"

The nurse looked up from Johanna and nodded. "I want to see you when your done though, as soon as I hear that shower go off I'm coming in there with the med kit."

If he were in the mood he would have said something at that, but all Jim Kirk wanted to do was drown in his troubles and soothe his aching muscles. With some residual frustration, the boy marched off to the shower and shut the door sharply behind him.

This was going to be one hell of long shower.


	5. Chapter Four

**Nobody**

A Star Trek Fan Fiction

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* * *

**Chapter Four**

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The amount of grime that coalesced around Jim's feet made him wonder how many days he went without showering. It was strange to finally see his skin – all patched with bruises and swollen lacerations from yesterday. The water running over his worn muscles was both a blessing and a curse. Even the slightest pressure from the shower head sent ribbons of pain throughout his knotted body. From what he could tell he definitely cracked a rib, maybe two.

The hot water started to wane after five minutes and Kirk groaned. He wanted to stay in the sanctuary of the bathroom for as long as possible. Outside waited a suspicious Vulcan, an over-eager nurse, a depressed little girl and a Caitian who knew him only as 'John'; all of which wanted a ship-load of answers the teenager couldn't give.

The cold water made him grimace and he was forced to turn off the shower to conserve his warmth. He knew Chapel would be listening for her cue to start her physical, so he wasted no time snatching a nearby towel and wrapping it around his waist to feign some semblance of modesty.

With a hiss of breath Kirk steeped out of the bathtub and gingerly set his feet down on the peeling linoleum floor. He hoped that Chapel would have something to take away his aches and pains in that kit of hers.

He looked into the steamy mirror, the action born from habit rather then curiosity. Once his eyes met blue he froze. Kirk could never get used to his face being that of a stranger's. With some hesitation he brought up calloused hands to touch the portions of his face that weren't purple or oozing.

A light rap on the door made him jump. He quickly dropped his hands to his side and turned to the exit.

"Come in…"

The door opened a fraction to allow Christine to stick her head in - her gentle smile revealing very white teeth. Her eyes rolled from Jim's feet to his head before her face disappeared again. "Perfect. Just a second." He heard the sound of rummaging before the rest of her body immerged into the bathroom. Kirk noted that there was suddenly a large med kit in her hand; it was bigger then the one she used earlier on his head. The door shut behind her with a snap making Kirk suddenly feel claustrophobic.

"Could you please sit on the toilet while I examine you? I hope you're not shy."

Kirk rubbed the back of his head nervously; this was such a strange situation. "Nah… not particularly. But is this _really_ necessary? A sensory block and some bandages will suit me fine…"

Cadet Chapel set her med-kit on the bathroom counter and sneered. "After all you've been through; you need all the medical attention you can get. I told Spock last night that we probably should have taken you and Auri to an actual hospital - but he wouldn't have it!" She was very animate when she talked; Jim wondered if all young women liked to move as they gossiped. He watched the tin of some weird cream bob up and down in her hand as she went on about Spock.

"Why?"

The girl blinked. "Well, he didn't explain… or he might have. It was four in the morning when he knocked on my door and dropped off Miss Auri, so I wasn't exactly listening. I think he wanted to find Doctor McCoy. We're in the middle of a survival expedition meant for cultural integration, so our superiors are off-planet. Spock is the highest ranking Federation officer and Dr. McCoy is the only cadet here with a medical degree. Spock is technically our mission leader at the moment, and you can bet having his primary medic missing is going to rattle him." Chapel started to run a tricorder over Kirk's abdomen, frowning every so often at the readings. "A fracture and some bad bruising. Looks like some of these have been broken before as well. You must attract a lot of trouble…"

"You have no idea…" The boy muttered as he eyed the tricorder with curiosity. The model number and some of the buttons seemed to strike a memory within him... but he pushed the thought to the corners of his mind. Jim wanted to know more about Spock's rational behind finding McCoy himself.

"Why doesn't he just call his aloof superiors, tell them that one of the Cadets has been kidnapped and to get their asses down here and find him? I mean… there's a seven year old out there thinking her daddy is in a ditch somewhere. Something needs to be done."

Chapel chewed her bottom lip as she listened to the teen's rant. "That is protocol…" She turned away and opened her tin of cream. "But I'm not questioning Spock. He has a damn good reason for everything he does… and if I had to choose someone to rescue Doctor McCoy it would be him."

The chill of the cream against Jim's skin gave him goose bumps and he slowly sucked in a breath to resist a shiver. "Whatever… he's just weird. I don't exactly see that guy as a knight in shining armor, you know?" He looked up into Chapel's face to see her eyes glittering with some fantastical mental image. He inwardly groaned; Jim knew better then to feed a young woman's imagination.

Thirty minutes later, after more boring chit-chat and some uncomfortable dressing, Chapel and Kirk came out of the bathroom and joined the other three forms in the living room. Johanna was curled up in the corner of the couch clutching her purple teddy-bear while Auri and Spock were engaged in deep conversation.

Kirk sat down heavily on the wooden coffee table, which was uncomfortably close to the two of them, and gave a tired smile. "So, what's the plan?"

Spock gave him a haughty glance while Auri reacted as if nothing Jim said would surprise her. "I was just telling Spock that the only place I can think of that they'd take a hostage is _Grays_ down in Gallow's Alley. It's a very shady night club – unfortunately with a guest list."

"A night club? My little adventure just keeps getting better and better…"

Auri smiled despite the situation. "It's a front for the Executioners. What little law enforcement we have can't get their ears and eyes into the place without a mole, and you see what they do to moles." She frowned and put a hand on her abdomen. Kirk got the point.

Spock's brow furrowed. "We're going to have to make sure that McCoy is indeed at this establishment before we make plans to infiltrate it."

Kirk shook his head and chuckled, "Nah… Auri and me will just get past the security and party till we find some silver-haired bastard, then I'll get the information out of him. If he's there – great, if not… we'll find out where McCoy is anyway."

"Auri and I." Spock corrected.

"…what? You two? No offense but those ears of yours stand out more then an Andorian on Mars."

Kirk swore he saw the Vulcan's eye twitch before he replied. "You misunderstand. I was correcting your inadequate grammar. I have no intention of entering a building filled with dangerous criminals and attempting an interrogation. That would be foolish."

"You underestimate the power of some good old fashioned vodka."

"Negative. Apparently I _overestimated_ the capabilities of your prefrontal cortex, for there is a problem with your higher brain functions. If you go in there – if you can even get yourself through the front door; which, approximating certain variables, results a low probability somewhere in the single digits – you're going to get yourself killed."

Chapel looked to Kirk. "He's right… we need a plan. A _good_ plan."

Auri ran a hand through her matted hair nervously. "John's plan might work… with some adjustments. I might be able to get the both of us through the door since I doubt Varian took me off the guest list yet. It would have to be now or never though… since the Executioners think I'm dead – hopefully. If any of them see me there I'm going to wish I was. Jim could go as my date; if I slip security some credits we'll be fine."

"Perfect! Then I just need to grab someone with some information – Auri can tell me who – and get him outrageously drunk so he doesn't know which way is up. Weaseling out the information should be easy."

Spock rubbed the bridge of his nose, then ceased once he realized he was exposing a moment of weakness. "This isn't some sort of Terran cowboy movie Kirk._"_ His tone implied that he was in the company of idiots.

"When you've had the last 12 hours I had… you start to wonder." The boy mumbled as he rubbed his still tender forehead. "Relax _Ensign_, I'm not _entirely_ stupid. I got McCoy into this; I'm going to help get him out. I owe him that."

There was a moment of silence following that statement which earned the blond a smidgeon of respect. His momentary sincerity must have shown through, because Spock stopped arguing with him and Auri looked like she was mentally preparing herself for what she was going to face later that evening.

Chapel wasn't very pleased with the current scheme.

"You both are practically riddled with holes. If something goes wrong you're not going to be in any condition to deal with it. You know this right?"

Kirk waved her off. "Just give me a stimulant and I'll be fine. I'll power nap before the party too if it'll make you happy."

"I don't know… with the amount of trauma you've been through…"

"Trust me. I'll be fine." He flashed a smile that killed any further protests. "Now, to satisfy Mr. Ears I suggest we come up with several contingencies to fall back on in case vodka _doesn't_ do the trick."

"Agreed." Three of them responded in unison.

Jim smiled and snatched the cold piece of toast Johanna threw at him earlier then stuck it in his mouth. He talked around it as he readdressed the group. "Good. Anyone have any ideas?"

There was a pregnant pause before a small voice from the corner piped up.

"How about figuring out _why_ Daddy was taken." Johanna said with some heat. "Everyone seems to be okay knowing all this is was _what's-his-face's_ fault he was taken in the first place." The girl gestured to Jim, her blue eyes flashing as if daring him to argue his innocence.

"We've been over this before… _I don't know_ why."

Auri and Spock turned contemplative. All attention turned to the Caitian as she stood to stretch her legs before voicing her opinion.

"At the bar you knew they were after you..." She stroked the caramel fur on her chin. "If you come to _them_ then you're in a worse position then I am. Maybe I _should_ take Ensign Spock… or maybe Chapel."

Jim stood as well, a look on incredibility on his face. "Hell no! Spock is the _last_ person you'd want in that sort of situation. Just look at him! He's a _Vulcan_, have you ever seen a Vulcan in a nightclub? Besides, I'm certain I can get the information… _I_ need to do this. I'm going with you one way or another… and trust me; the alternative would suck for everyone. I can be very stubborn. Trust me Auri."

Johanna sneered, "Yeah, my father did that and look where it got him."

Jim sighed deeply, "Joanna, I didn't kidnap your dad - those assholes did. Let me fix this - please."

His eyes met hers, and for a second the child looked like she was going to burst into tears; but she swallowed her sorrow and turned away. "Fine, but you're not going to ditch me with Christine all the time. I want to help too – and don't you dare tell me I'm too little!" She snapped as the four of them opened their mouths to counter her terms. "I know I'm only a girl, but that's _my_ father, and I'm going to do what I can too."

"I understand." Kirk said with a small smile. He turned to the others in the room, a sympathetic expression easily readable on his face. "Is that all right with the rest of you?"

Everyone looked very uncomfortable with the idea; yet no one wanted to argue any further on the subject. Kirk took the opportunity to make things official by throwing in his hand and looking to Johanna to complete the ritual. She shook it and sat back down next to Spock. Suddenly, it was as if a switch was thrown and a vein of maturity emerged within the child.

"I think that it would be smart to have the rest of us nearby in case something bad happens." Joanna suggested, earning her several strange looks.

"Yes, I believe that to be wise. I will be close by undercover in order to interfere if required. Chapel and Johanna should be on stand by for medical assistance." It was nice of Spock to purposely include the girl in the plans to make her more compliant. Auri and Chapel still frowned.

"Let's hope nothing goes wrong then…" Chapel said tersely.

Spock looked at her with a stern Vulcan stare.

"Wishful thinking is an inefficient Terran failing Cadet. This plan could do without such idealism."

Jim leaned into Auri's triangular ear and chuckled, "Well, he's a ray of sunshine…"

At that, they both smiled; well… that was until the moment Spock turned on them and reminded the both of them about Vulcan hearing. With a diplomatic flare, Kirk changed topic and asked Spock if he could raid his suitcase for something sexy to wear for his date with Auri.

The boy could have sworn the Ensign's ears turned green before the Vulcan answered him flatly, "No."

* * *

**Author's Note**:

Worst. Month. Ever. Not only did I have final exams, but my boyfriend of 3.5 years decided to break-up with me in the midst of them. Then there was the holidays and my family is a bunch of drama llamas... BLAH! So... yeah... that's what happened to me. Sorry for the very slow updates, and short chapter. I'm in recovery mode.


End file.
